going nowhere, going somewhere
by Estora
Summary: Edward, and self-discovery. Bella taught him how to love; his new college roommate may just be the one to teach him how to live. The twenty-first century, Edward is beginning to realise, is actually kind of...awesome.
1. part one

_Disclaimer:__ This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Stephenie Meyer. All recognisable characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

_To love is not to look at one another, but to look in the same direction.  
_~ Antoine de Saint-Exupery

**going nowhere, going somewhere**

(part one)

It was a stupid arrangement right from the start, but since it had been Carlisle's idea Edward was hardly going to attack it, plus most of his family embraced the idea well enough. College again – and living on campus. The explanation was that living such a high lifestyle, namely mansions, drew the attention they so desperately tried to avoid, so what better way to avoid attention than by hiding right under the humans' noses? Carlisle seemed rather enthusiastic about it, and Alice had been dying to try it. They were paired up – Emmett and Jasper, Rosalie and Alice, Bella and Renesmee.

Edward was naturally the Odd One Out.

Renesmee was entirely too amused than was absolutely necessary about the whole thing. "You're too serious, dad. It'll be fun!"

"I'll be put with a human. I don't understand why I can't go to med school again."

Renesmee giggled. Bella touched his arm in comfort and he bit back a sigh he didn't really need to sigh. "It's only for three years, Edward," she said softly.

"And how exactly am I supposed to hide the no-eating, no-sleeping thing?"

"You're smart!" Renesmee chirped. "I'm sure you'll think of something."

"Easy for you to say," Emmett grumbled from the other side of the room. Silently, Edward agreed.

"I will miss Jacob and Leah," Renesmee sighed, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "At least I got to go to their wedding before we had to leave."

"I'm sure they'll write," Edward murmured absently, and Renesmee stuck out her tongue.

("Woof," Rosalie muttered.)

* * *

His roommate's name was Caden Mills. Edward heard him about three minutes before he met him; for a human, Caden had unusually loud thoughts. The introduction itself went, for lack of a better description, badly:

"Who the fuck are you?"

Edward blinked at the coarse language, and at the sandy-haired, green-eyed boy standing in the doorway. "I'm Edward Cullen," he said, letting his suitcase fall onto his bed. "This is my assigned dormitory."

"You're Edward?" The boy screwed up his nose. "Well, hi, I guess. I'm Caden. Caden Mills. Cool contacts, by the way."

"Sorry? Oh, my eyes. Thanks. Nice to meet you."

"So, what're you doing?" the boy asked almost carelessly and turned on the computer on the desk.

"Major in English with Literature as my elective."

Caden's eyebrows shot up. "Nice. English Lit is my minor."

"And your course?"

"Majoring in Society and Culture. Transferred out of Arts last year."

Edward had nothing against a Bachelor of Arts personally; it was the principle, not the practice. He was reminded of the scrawling all through the public bathrooms in college campuses during the 1980s, on the toilet paper roll boxes: _Arts Major, please take one_. "Sounds interesting," Edward said, feigning interest, then returned to unpacking his suitcase.

Clearly he failed at feigning interest.

_Prick_, he heard Caden think and he winced at how loud it was before a horrible sound erupted from the speakers. Edward glanced at the computer screen, some clip on YouTube. "What is that awful noise?" he asked, frowning at the prepubescent band of boys wheezing out something that a thirteen year old girl might have considered a song.

"You haven't heard the Jonas Brothers?"

"I don't believe I have."

Caden wrote a scathing comment on the YouTube clip and exited the screen. "Then bless whatever God you believe in that you haven't."

_This is why I hate modern culture_, Edward thought to himself.

At the same time, he heard Caden's very loud, very annoying thoughts: _Stupid fucking Jonas Brothers, they're ruining the music industry._

Edward nearly scoffed. It wasn't as though there was much worth ruining these days.

* * *

Caden was Annoying with a Capital 'A'.

Not in the literal sense, that he was constantly in Edward's face and acted obnoxiously as often as he could. Quite the opposite – despite their first meeting, Caden more or less minded his own business and didn't pay too much attention to Edward and his unusual sleeping/eating habits. Just as well, of course.

No, Caden was annoying because he was _loud_.

In a sea of one hundred voices, Caden's voice carried. It was like a constant drone in the back of his mind, sometimes coherent and other times nonsensical, but always there. It wasn't that he smelled any more delectable than another human, or that his thoughts were disinteresting – it was the constant presence of it that was steadily driving Edward towards insanity. Even at a hundred, two hundred metres apart, and more, Edward could hear him.

_Hmm, I wonder what would happen if –_

_– don't believe that kid has _ever _gone to medical school –_

_–texts such as Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet are commonly misinterpreted as romantic tales; rather, _Romeo and Juliet_ is a social commentary which explores themes of immaturity, recklessness, and the fickle nature of teenagers –_

_– JUST A TEENAGE DIRTBAG, BAAABY…_

It wasn't as though Edward could go up to him and ask him if he could keep his thoughts down or just stopped thinking altogether, please and thank you. Years later he would deny ever falling to his knees before Carlisle and begging for the family to pack and leave again.

This rational, level-headed _request_ was denied, and Emmett graciously told him to "suck it up".

Caden even _dreamed_ loudly. Thankfully also deeply, which meant Edward could escape the dormitory to hunt without fear of being discovered. This was not, however, to say that the boy was unperceptive; on the contrary, it was a relief he could actually hear his thoughts when Caden noticed him acting strangely, like not eating in the dorm and always being up at the crack of dawn. This was easily rectified by putting a banana in his backpack and shoving some candy wrappers under his pillow, and pretending he went for morning jogs. (Technically not a lie.) Caden Mills, it seemed, had a relatively short attention span, or was distracted easily, especially when it came to pop culture.

"…You don't know _Inglourious Basterds?_" Caden said slowly when Edward stared blankly at the DVD he was holding up proudly.

"Should I?"

"The fuck you should!" Caden exclaimed loudly, the use of profanity making Edward shift in disapproval. "Christ! Have you been living under a rock or something?"

"Or something," Edward agreed distantly.

_Man_, Caden's thoughts resonated in his mind, _this dude's been seriously deprived. Wonder if he'd let me write my research paper on him? How fanatic reactionist beliefs destroy one's ability to integrate with society…_

Stupid human boy. If only he knew.

* * *

"You seen the book I was reading?"

"Here," Edward said, holding it out. Caden grabbed it, fingers brushing against the back of Edward's hand as he did. Edward pulled back sharply, eyes widening as Caden frowned at him. He felt his skin temperature – a level abnormal for humans, especially in July. If Caden suspected, if he told others – he didn't want to make his family move again for a slipup so minor –

"What's up with your hands?"

"I'm sorry?" Edward asked, pretending he had no idea. Sometimes it worked.

But the stupid kid wouldn't quit. "Your hands. They're freezing. We're in the middle of summer. You okay?"

"It's a – an illness I have – no cure –" Edward lied – and found Caden, much to his surprise, nodding.

"Ah, right. Some circulation disease? Reynaud's is my guess."

"Y-yes. Yes. Reynaud's Disease."

Well, why hadn't he said anything like that earlier? All those years of keeping distance from humans in fear that they would realise what he was, and his cold hands could be easily passed off as a disease, albeit a less common one? He started wondering what other illnesses would explain his 'symptoms'. Definitely something to bring up with Carlisle.

"Well, make sure you keep your hands and feet warm all the time," Caden advised. "My aunt had Reynaud's and her left foot had to be amputated after she came back from skiing."

"I don't plan on going skiing," Edward muttered.

"Top man," Caden approved, and returned to analysing _War and Peace_.

* * *

When Edward failed to react 'normally' to the third pop-culture reference in a row, Caden glared at him. "You have read _Harry Potter_, right? Every kid our generation has read it."

"I tend not to read things written after 1950. I find the standard of literature declines exponentially after that decade, particularly articles of 'pop culture'."

_Well, ouch_, Edward could hear Caden's hurt thoughts, and immediately felt a bit guilty. But not too guilty. "That's a bit rough, innit?" Caden said, averting his gaze. "It's not _Anna Karenina_ but…you know…you shouldn't dismiss it because it wasn't written back then. I'll admit it isn't the best writing at times, but they're great books."

"Hmm," Edward said dismissively, and Caden frowned.

"I suppose you think I'm an uncultured bastard for even laying eyes on _Harry Potter_, then."

"I didn't say that –"

"You were thinking it." It almost shocked him how quickly Caden's temper rose, both in thought and action. He pointed at Edward's chest. "Listen here, Cullen – three months I've been putting up with your emo attitude and your condescending looks. And that's cool. I can live with that. But I can't stand you acting like if something wasn't written by Shakespeare it doesn't have literary value. Because that's not true. And it doesn't mean the people who read it aren't as good as you. Get with times. You're only – what – nineteen, twenty? Means you were born in 1990. You're too young to be acting like an old fart. I happen to like _Harry Potter_. Doesn't mean you're better than me for it."

He stormed out of the dorm before Edward could reply. There was a certain irony about it, Edward considered. It was definitely funny in a way. If one squinted and turned their head to the side maybe.

_Stuck-up, self-righteous, douche-head, snot-nosed, bastard, asshole –_

Caden's vicious mental insults followed Edward for the rest of the day. When they saw each other next, Caden pretended nothing had happened, and Edward was more than happy to go along with it.

* * *

For the past hundred or so years, Edward received marks well above the state average and was generally able to maintain an A average. It was of course much to his surprise, and a bit of his horror, that he received a B- for an essay for English literature.

"I don't understand," he mused aloud in the dorm. "I've never received a mark below A before."

Caden glanced up from his side of the room. "Never?" _Weirdo._ "Well, had to happen sometime. It's not as bad as you think it is. Here, let me read it."

"Why you?" Edward asked gloomily as he unwillingly surrendered his essay over to Caden's expectant hand.

"Because I have experience with knowing _exactly_ why my work gets Bs and Cs."

_That's not too hard to imagine_, Edward snarked mentally as Caden started reading his essay. Time for a vampire was relative; hours equivalent to seconds, years equivalent to days. He half expected his peculiar roommate to scan over the pages and toss it back, rolling his eyes at the use of refined language and accusing him on choosing too serious a topic when other kids were comparing _Romeo and Juliet_ to some new teenage paranormal romance series which turned girls into screaming fans. Something to do with zombies or succubae…

But Caden settled back onto his bed and immersed himself into the essay, reading over each word and sentence, eyes moving back and forth slowly. His thoughts were quieter now than usual, entwining with Edward's words, eyes wide and face open with emotion as he read. It might have been ten minutes or ten months when he looked back up, eyes shining with something Edward fancied being admiration.

"Okay, your problem – teachers don't want to work their way through twenty pages of Ye Olde English."

"Excuse me?"

"It means they want you to cut the flowery shit and get to the goddamn point of the essay. These are people who have to read through a hundred essays a night. They're going to lose interest pretty quick."

If that wasn't the biggest contradiction of emotion and thought in human history, Edward didn't know what was. "You seemed fairly entranced."

Caden flushed. "Yeah, well, as much as I love Harry Potter, I am capable of appreciating more eloquent forms. You write…beautifully, if I may."

Were he human, Edward might have blushed right back. "Thank you."

"But your points aren't obvious enough and you've got, like, ten thousand words. You write like it's still 1860. I mean, _I_ enjoyed it. I haven't read anything like that for ages. But the teachers aren't going to enjoy it at midnight after a long day at college teaching snot-nosed idiots who don't pay attention and only turn up to pass the course. Filthy hypocrites, aren't they? Anyway, loosen up a bit, have some fun. This essay's for your elective, which is literature, yes? It's okay to choose some less serious texts. And maybe a few less 'hitherto's and 'whereby's."

Edward took his essay back. "I'll take that into consideration."

Caden gave him a funny look. "You're so serious all the time. What do you do for fun?"

"I play the piano. Spend time with my girlfriend."

…_Yeah, serious as a block of granite._ "You've got a girlfriend?"

Edward nearly frowned. "No need to sound so surprised."

"No, it's – sorry. You just act like such a prude all the time, I thought…"

"There's nothing wrong with acting like a prude, or being one. And I'm not a prude, I'm conservative, and there isn't anything wrong with that either."

"I didn't say there was!"

"You were thinking it."

(He had been.)

Caden closed his mouth. "Well, touché."

And for the first time in four months, they grinned at each other.

* * *

Much to his surprise, Edward found that he was beginning to like Caden, and his constant presence in Edward's mind became less of an annoyance and more something that just was. He grew used to the murmuring, learning to tune out, but more often than not he listened. What he heard was very strange; mostly stories, he figured out, and characters and worlds that weren't real, and some of them were amusing to listen to. It was still strange; he preferred to keep humans at a distance, disliking their shallow thoughts, but there was something different about Caden. He was genuinely a nice kid – rarely thinking bad thoughts about anyone (except maybe Sally Henderson from psychology, the backstabbing cheating bitch). Everything about Caden thrived with life and emotion, emotions ranging from mindless glee one day to a fiery fury the next.

It was…intriguing, to say the least. Such a connection to a human mind was unusual for him. Naturally, this only made Bella concerned with his interest in Caden. Sweet Bella, whose thoughts he'd never heard – his inability to which attracted him to her.

"What does he think about that's so interesting?" Bella asked one day at the college, huddled in a shadowy corner of a corridor.

"I don't know. He's so loud half the time I can't hear my own thoughts. He's always thinking about _something_. He writes a lot of stories."

"Can you hear him now?"

Edward closed his eyes.

_…late late late late late –_

He laughed. "Yes, I can hear him. He's late for something."

Bella gazed at him with her topaz, shielded eyes. Edward felt a pang of regret – he missed her brown human ones, the ones which he could read like a book when he couldn't read her mind. Topaz looked out of place on her, even with her vampire-enhanced features. "Do you want to hear me?" she whispered.

Edward let her extend her mental shield, feeling her emotions wash over him. Love, unconditional love, how much she loved him…

He was quiet when he went to his next class. Even when she let him touch her mind, he couldn't hear anything except her love for him. It warmed him, made him fall in love with her a little more each time, but for the first time, Edward wondered…did she think about anything else?

* * *

"You're not on Facebook."

Edward kept reading _The Woman in White_. "I morally object to signing up to the website. I like my privacy."

To his surprise, Caden laughed at this. "Well, I don't blame you on that! I hate that stupid thing."

"Then why do you use it?"

"Dunno. Addicted to it, maybe. I keep up with all my friends on it. It _can_ be fun. But I can totally get why you haven't joined up. Probably best if you don't. But anyway, the reason I asked was because I was looking for you to send you an invitation."

"For what?"

"Some of my friends are meeting up with me at the movies on Friday to watch the new _Harry Potter_ movie. I, uh, was wondering if you wanted to join us."

"I'm sorry, Caden, I – I've got a family dinner on that night, and it's been a while since we all last sat down with each other," he lied. "But thank you for asking."

"Well, maybe some other time."

"Sure," Edward agreed absently, pretending he couldn't hear the slight hurt in Caden's thoughts, "some other time."

* * *

Another month passed, and Edward turned down five of Caden's invitations to parties and movies. That didn't deter the boy, but it did make him pay closer attention to Edward, more than he had been. This was Worrying with a Capital 'W', especially when Caden began saying things like:

"Hey, wanna catch lunch on our way to class?"

And,

"I need to pull an all-nighter for this assignment. You can still sleep if you want, I'll try to keep quiet."

They weren't exactly innocent questions, either, what with Caden deciding he wanted to play detective. Pretending to sleep was a lot harder than it sounded, and after two weeks of constantly declining lunch, Caden cornered Edward. He was hardly threatening, a mere human who looked like an ant in comparison to the sheer strength and speed of a vampire, but it wasn't as though Edward could employ any of that without alerting Caden to what he was.

He couldn't let Caden find out. He couldn't ask his family to move again because of his slipups and carelessness. He had three choices; lie and say he was anorexic and an insomniac and that he shouldn't worry – but that was stupid because of _course_ Caden would worry if he said that. He could kill Caden, and hide his body and his family could move away without leaving a shred of evidence behind, but that was morally reprehensible and it was more a matter that he _wouldn't_ do it than he _couldn't_. He was physically able to – but in some strange way, Caden felt almost like a…friend, and killing someone, him especially, was the last thing Edward ever wanted to do.

The third option was to tell him the truth.

"Seriously, Edward, I'm this close to calling the campus nurse to check you out. There was this kid in school who kept to herself all the time and we never saw her eat or anything, and before the final exams she tried to kill herself. You don't eat, you don't sleep, you don't go in the sunlight – what the hell? I'm…I'm worried about you."

Edward imagined something in that admission warmed him. "Don't be," he said softly, barely thinking about what he was saying. "It's normal for my kind."

"I'm sorry – 'your kind'? Your kind is _human_, and it isn't normal."

He could still fix this. He wasn't Alice and couldn't see the future, but he still had that choice. He could easily say, _Just joking – look, it's okay, my dad's a doctor and he has me on medication. I'm allergic to a lot of foods and I'm a recovering insomniac._ He could say that. He very nearly did.

"I'm a vampire," he said instead, and sealed his fate.

There was a beat.

_Huh_, Edward heard Caden think, _that'd explain almost everything_.

"Seriously?" Caden frowned at him suspiciously. "You're fucking with me, aren't you?"

"I don't, um, 'fuck' with people." The profanity felt strange in his mouth.

_Bloody bullshit. He's off his rocker._ "Look, I'm not some simple minded girl who'd believe anything you say just because – just because you're –"

_Hot._

"Just because you say so," Caden finished lamely. "I mean, _vampire_. Really."

Edward cleared his throat awkwardly, then he sighed. "I know it sounds farfetched –"

"Downright insane, you mean. Look, when I was ten I went through this stage of telling all my classmates I was a zombie and I bit a girl on the arm to prove it, but…you sure you don't want me to call the campus nurse?"

Caden's hand moved closer towards the dorm telephone. Seeing no other way to convince him, Edward grabbed his hand and pressed it to his chest, ignoring the yelp of surprise. "Dude, what the –"

The exclamation died away when Caden realised what he was feeling. Well, what he wasn't feeling, rather.

They were silent for about a minute. Caden's mind was racing, his thoughts incoherent as he tried to make sense of this, and eventually came to a conclusion.

"…Wow."

"Yes."

His hand was still on Edward's chest.

"Um. That's…wow. You – you're dead."

"I am."

_This is insane._ "You're a vampire."

"Yes."

_Insane_. "You gonna eat me now?"

"What? No!"

"Oh. 'Kay." Finally Caden let his hand fall. "But, I ate garlic bread the other day, y'know. You seemed fine. And I haven't seen you sink your teeth into anyone's neck yet."

Edward couldn't help but snort at this. "Garlic doesn't actually repel vampires, nor do crucifixes. Those are myths. And I don't burn in the sunlight or prey on humans. I'm what my kind calls a 'vegetarian vampire'. I only drink the blood of animals."

This time it was Caden who snorted. "Yeah, tell PETA you're vegetarian and we'll see who wins the fight."

Another long awkward silence.

"So I take it this is one of those 'tell anyone and I'll have to kill you' situations?"

"Technically it's an 'if I told you I'd have to kill you' situation," Edward deadpanned. Caden laughed a little nervously, clearly unsure whether or not Edward was joking.

"Right," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Um…what does happen when you go in the sunlight if you don't burn?"

He'd never been embarrassed about it before. "I – um, I – my skin is a diamond-like substance. When the sunlight hits it, it reflects."

_It's the skin of a killer_, he nearly added, but stopped when Caden started turning red, holding back laughter.

"Lemme get this straight," Caden forced out between clenched teeth. "You don't burn in the sunlight. You…sparkle."

"Yes," Edward said patiently. He couldn't expect everyone to respond the way Bella did –

"As in, disco-ball glitter."

"…I've never heard it compared to that, but yes."

"And you're straight?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"No, no, nothing. Just, the only people I've seen sparkle are drag queens and Lady Gaga. Do you ejaculate rainbows as well?"

"Wh- _No!_"

"All right, calm down. I was just asking."

* * *

This is my attempt at a pro-life / pro-21st Century _Twilight_ fanfic. Because I really hate the way the Cullens are so dismissive of modern life. Also, my attempt to give Edward a personality. Anti-_Twilight_ overtones, but it's not too glaring. Also some reference to one-sided slash, but very minor and practically irrelevant. Hope you enjoy! All forms of comments – praise, constructive criticism, and flames – are welcome, so don't be shy!


	2. part two

_Disclaimer:__ This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Stephenie Meyer. All recognisable characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

Thank you to twirob, Kae Shady, pauliina, Raining Silver, Starling-Night, tralala, What a B1tch, Dinny93, JollyVenturer, Blue Green Scene, wolfofsummerbreeze, Ruan Chun Xian, and Miss Chant for taking the time to review!

* * *

**going nowhere, going somewhere**

(part two)

Caden owned a motorbike. It shouldn't have surprised Edward, but for some reason it did. It seemed that despite how loudly he could hear his thoughts, there seemed to be an endless depth to him which Edward couldn't pin down.

"Like it?" Caden asked, straddling the seat in a distractingly casual manner. Edward forced his gaze back up to Caden's face.

"It's…very nice."

"Have you ever ridden one?"

"I have not."

"Dude, you're over a hundred years old and you've never been on a motorcycle?"

Edward raised his eyebrows. "I can run faster than whatever speed that machine could ever reach –"

"It's the principle, not the semantics," Caden interrupted, looking nonchalant. "Get on. I'll give you a lift home."

Edward stared for a moment, then slid into the seat behind Caden.

"I take it you don't need a helmet," Caden grinned. "Still, you should hold on in case we get pulled over by cops."

When he hesitated, Caden sighed loudly as he reached back to grab Edward's arms and tugged them around his waist.

"Don't let go, okay? I know you're practically indestructible, but…y'know, I'll still feel weird if you don't hang on."

Caden was warm in a way Bella would never be again. The thrum of his beating heart was like a melody to Edward's mind, so strong and full of life.

* * *

It was a few weeks after Edward had told Caden he was a vampire that Caden asked how old he was. Caden was sprawled out on his bed procrastinating as Edward turned around his chair at the desk and faced his peculiar roommate. He'd prepared an answer for this, having listened to Caden think about the subject for a few days. He started to explain that he was well over a hundred years old –

"Seriously?"

"Yes. I was born in 1901, and I was transformed into a vampire in 1918."

Caden sat up on the bed and stared at Edward. "You're not having me on?"

"Um –"

"If you were born in 1901 that means you lived through World War One, then got turned into a vampire, then lived through the Great Depression, then World War Two, and then the Cold War, and Vietnam, and – and – you experienced the 70s! Holy crap – you _are_ the twentieth century! That's so – that's amazing! I mean," he added on hurriedly, abashed, "I'm sure some of that was hardly _fun_ but…I mean…I love history. Modern history, 'specially. You must have seen some amazing stuff. D'you think…if you want…could you maybe tell me about it? About your life? The things you've done?"

Caden trailed off with a blush, realising he was sounding like an overeager child on Christmas Eve. Rather than laughing, Edward offered him a small smile, touched by his interest, and gave him a brief run-down of his life over the past century. How he'd been taken in by Carlisle and was joined shortly afterwards by the rest of his family, and how they formed a tight coven, what their powers were (except for his) and went to different schools and colleges all over the world –

"So, lemme get this straight. You are, for all intents and purposes, _immortal_. You have a 'sister' who can see the future which is why you're so wealthy, getting the right numbers for lotto and such and being able to see the ups and downs of the stock market, and your 'dad' is basically the most experienced surgeon in the world. So are you, technically, since you've been through med school a gazillion times."

"I don't think it's been that many times –"

"And you all just…go to school, over and over again?"

He wished Caden didn't sound so dismayed. "Well, yes. We try to fit in as much as we can."

"By going to school."

"Yes."

"Dude, I went to school once. That was one time too many for me. I don't get it. You've got gifts – powers – and you waste them on _schoolwork?_"

There was no outward evidence of the disgust Edward could hear in Caden's thoughts – _There are kids starving to death in Africa right now, and you have enough money to singlehandedly build a school for them every hundred meters apart. Your sister can see the future, and yet you did jack shit on 9/11. The fuck, man…_

Shame was a feeling Edward was used to, but never quite to this extent. Not on matters like this. "We're supposed to live in absolute secrecy. Limited contact with humans. The Volturi – sort of like a vampire council – expressively forbid it. If we did any of that we'd be hunted down by them and, for lack of a better term, euthanised. We're not meant to engage in contact with humans. I don't even know why I'm telling you this. I'm just putting you in danger –"

Caden shrugged. "Hey, who's gonna tell them? What they don't know won't hurt them."

Edward frowned disapprovingly. "You are as careless about your own safety as Bella was."

"Bella – your girlfriend?"

"Yes. We met ten years ago in a place called Forks in Washington."

"Never heard of it."

"Most people haven't. We chose it because of how often it rained. No sunshine."

"So, you've travelled then? All over the world?"

"Of course. Italy, France, Canada, South America – you name it."

"That's pretty cool. More than most people get to do in a lifetime."

"I do have eternity," Edward said, amused.

"Oh, yeah," Caden grinned. "But even then, how can you get to do the things you love if you just go to school over and over again?"

"My wife is with me. Bella, that is. I love her. We do it together now."

_He's married?_ He heard Caden think, shocked. (Disappointed? Betrayed? It was hard to tell.) "You're married?"

"Yes. She is my mate."

He hated the way something in Caden's eyes flickered and died.

_Right. Mates. Because vampires mate._

"So you go to school with your…wife." Caden hid a grimace. "Kinda sweet, I guess." This was a lie, but Edward didn't call him out on it. "But haven't you ever wanted to do something? What's the one thing in the world you desire most, more than anything?"

"Bella is everything and anything I could ever want," Edward explained.

"…Yeah, great, but I mean like, the one thing I want to do the most is become an author. I love to write. I couldn't imagine doing anything else. The ability to put words down on paper and create a world, a universe, a person, and then being able to share that with others. That's me. That's what I am. That's what I _want_. You can love a person and still love something else. Something else that defines you for being you."

Edward stayed silent.

"You…" Caden prompted.

"…I…" Edward responded, and found that was all he could say.

What else _did_ he want, besides Bella? Bella made him happy. Bella was kind and beautiful and a mystery, still. Sort of. But that wasn't what Caden was asking. Besides Bella, what kept him going? And this was where Edward Cullen, for the first time in over a century, faltered. He imagined being human for a moment, heart picking pace and hands clammy with cold sweat, maybe his face turning red at the thought that he just _didn't know_ what he wanted.

He enjoyed playing the piano, but it wasn't something he wanted to do all the time. He didn't want to do it for the rest of his life. It didn't keep him going, didn't fill him with the emotion or passion which filled Caden when he spoke of writing. Who, then, was Edward Cullen? Who Edward Cullen without Bella Swan?

Caden took pity on his silence. "Well, then, tell me what you wanted to do when you were still, uh, alive."

"In 1918?" Edward clarified, grateful to get away from that particular line of questioning.

"Yeah, tell me about that."

"I don't really remember. Most of my human memories faded away after the transformation. Although…"

He was quiet for a very long time, thinking. Remembering. The whispers of a memory, so distant, danced around the corners of his mind. He tried to reach for them, only to feel them slip from his fingers as surely as trying to catch water. But something still danced there, almost out of reach –

"An actor," he realised, opening eyes he didn't noticed were closed. His answer surprised himself. It had been so long ago… "I wanted to be an actor, and perform in stage shows – large productions. Musicals. I loved them. But my father disapproved – acting was not a respectful option for a member of the aristocracy. I was his only son…I was supposed to become Lord Masen in his place and get married and sire children as soon as possible, to keep the Noble Line of Masen running and influential… He was very traditional."

Caden nodded. "Well, contextually that makes sense. But those values are pretty outdated these days. Why don't you act now? It's not like there's anything stopping you except for the whole vampire thing."

"As you pointed out," Edward said, amused again, "it is exactly because of the whole 'vampire thing'."

"Yeah, well, you blend in pretty well when you stay out of the sun. Y'know, my brother runs late-night acting classes, if you're interested," Caden offered. "That way you won't glitter and people won't think of you as some drag queen wannabe. 'Cause seriously, when I saw you sparkling, the first thought that came to mind was _definitely_ not 'vampire'. Just for the record."

He scrawled down his brother's email address to give to Edward before disappearing to his next tutorial.

Edward clutched the piece of paper the entire day.

* * *

When he went home that night, and held Bella in his arms after they made love, he hesitated before asking, "Bella…what is the one thing you want to do for yourself, the most in this world?"

She turned over and faced him, golden eyes watching him. He wondered what she was thinking when she smiled and kissed him. "What a strange question," she mused. "I want to be with you, Edward. That's all I could ever want."

_But haven't you ever wanted to do something? What's the one thing in the world you desire most, more than anything?_

…_You can love a person and still love something else. Something else that defines you for being you._

Somehow, her answer didn't comfort him the way it used to.

* * *

He had to slip up sometime.

He tried, so hard, to keep his power hidden from Caden for as long as he could – it was one thing to tell Bella, because he couldn't hear anything she thought, but telling Caden, when he was able to hear everything that ran through his mind, felt like a disaster waiting to happen. Perhaps it was cowardly but he didn't want to see the look on Caden's face when he revealed that he'd been listening in on every private thought of his for the better part of five, nearly six, months.

Of course, that was all just wishful thinking. As loud as his thoughts were, sometimes it sounded like Caden was talking directly to him.

And that day, he answered back.

Caden looked up from his computer. "What?"

"I said –"

"I heard what you said. What were you replying to?"

_Oh no,_ Edward thought, and felt his body tense. "You asked how many years Queen Victoria reigned for," he said softly, almost making it sound like a question.

"I didn't say that. I thought it," Caden said, watching him suspiciously.

"Well, um…lucky guess, I suppose" Edward supplied. If his heart was still beating, he imagined it would pounding in panic. Caden snapped the lid of his laptop shut and crossed his arms.

"You know, you told me once that your family have powers."

Edward didn't answer, letting guilty silence fill in.

"Your sister can see the future. What's your power?"

"I…"

"Edward."

One glance into Caden's stony eyes and he knew there and then that there was no way to get out of this. It had to happen sometime, and Caden certainly deserved to know…so he unwillingly admitted, "I…can hear peoples' thoughts. Almost everyone's thoughts. Especially yours."

Caden stared at him. "You can hear what I'm thinking?" he repeated slowly.

"All the time. You're very loud."

Silence.

One beat. Two beats.

"And you didn't think to _tell me about that insignificant detail?_" Caden exploded, rounding on him. "You didn't think I wouldn't be interested to know that you can _hear what I'm thinking? Everything?_"

"I didn't –"

"Bloody hell! Haven't you got any respect for my privacy? For _anyone's_ privacy? Did it not occur to you that maybe I don't _want_ you to know certain things, which is why I don't _say_ them? And now I find out you've been hearing everything I've been thinking _anyway?_"

"I can't _help_ it," Edward defended himself. "If I could just turn it off, I would – I swear I would – but I can't help what I hear. Your thoughts in particular – you're louder than anyone else I've ever come across."

"Oh, so now this is _my_ fault? How is it my fault for thinking? The one place I had absolute privacy and control over until you came along – why the hell didn't you tell me? Maybe I could have – I dunno, shielded or something. Didn't you ever stop to think that maybe I don't _want_ you to hear everything I think? God, Edward – you're so caught up in thinking you're better than us mere, fragile humans and you're completely dismissive of our _feelings_. Because guess what, we _do_ have feelings!"

"I…I was not being dismissive of you," Edward tried to explain, but Caden wasn't listening.

"Yes you were. It's just…Jesus. I don't know. Do I – do I mean _anything_ to you at all or am I just some big joke to you now?"

"You're not a joke, Caden," Edward managed to say.

"You're doing a shit job of proving otherwise," he spat out, then buried his burning face in his hands. "Jesus Christ, the things you must have heard…Does that mean you know about – oh, forget it. You probably already think I'm the world's biggest fool. Scratch that, I _am_ the biggest fool."

"Caden…"

But Caden was throwing books and papers and pens into his bag agitatedly and storming out of the dorm. "I need to get to class," he grumbled, and the slamming of the door made the fishbowl on the desk shake.

* * *

Edward didn't see Caden again for three days. For someone whose thoughts he could hear more loudly than anyone else he'd ever encountered, and for someone so noticeable, he did a spectacular job of hiding. Edward tried not to worry, but he failed miserably because his entire family noticed when they met up that night. He didn't tell them anything, not even Bella who tried to coax him into sharing what was bothering him. He almost told Renesmee but decided against it, and tried to not let it affect him.

He noticed during that week at college that the English, Media, and Performing Arts faculty was putting on a musical production. _Chess_ – a well-done musical, Edward recalled, and one of the more enjoyable ones of its decade.

Caden mentioned once that he liked _Chess_.

There were already twenty-four names signed up on the list. Edward stared at the names – none he recognised – then impulsively picked up the pen attached to a string, wrote his name on the next line, and walked away before he could change his mind and cross it off.

On his way home, he bought the soundtrack to _Revenge of the Sith._

* * *

"You _what?_"

"I signed up for a musical at the college."

"Why?" Rosalie sounded bewildered.

"I wanted to." When was the last time he said that? He could hardly remember. Maybe some time in 1920.

"Which production, Edward?" Carlisle asked politely, far more open-minded about this than the rest of the family.

"_Chess._"

Carlisle nodded approvingly even as Emmett snorted. "One of my favourites from the twentieth century. It has some wonderful songs in it. I hope you have fun. Just be careful."

"I can't believe you're endorsing this!" Rosalie screeched at Carlisle. "He's putting us all in danger – again! First with Bella and now with that human boy Karl he's friends with –"

"Caden," Edward interrupted angrily. "His name is _Caden_, and I'd appreciate it if you got it right!"

"Whatever! Carlisle –"

"I didn't know you liked acting," Bella said softly to him as Rosalie and Emmett continued arguing with Carlisle. Jasper hung around in the background, trying to soften the raging emotions.

"I wanted to act when I was human. I'd forgotten all these years. Caden…suggested I take acting lessons."

"You told Caden?" She sounded hurt. Even though he couldn't hear her thoughts, he imagined she was thinking, _You told Caden and not me?_

"You never asked," Edward muttered in explanation, and fled the room.

* * *

The next day Edward found Caden in the cafeteria.

"Hello," he said uncertainly, hovering next to him. Caden glanced up.

"Hey."

"How…how have you been?"

"Good," was the short answer, and Edward sighed.

"Listen, Caden…"

"Saw you got into the call backs for the musical."

"I – yeah. I –"

"It'll be fun. I'm sure you'll get in. I'll, uh, come and see you in it, when it's on."

Edward hesitated. Caden kept his eyes down, as if ashamed of something, and he realised a moment later that Caden was, in a quiet, embarrassed way, offering an apology.

"Thanks," Edward finally said, "I'd like that."

It seemed to be the right thing to say, because the tension in Caden's nonsensical thoughts lessened. They fell silent, and Caden focused rather intently on his food.

_So…_

Edward nearly jumped at Caden's thoughts, directed – for the first time – intently at him.

_Can you…hear me?_

Edward nodded, and Caden blinked.

_Huh. 'Kay. Don't listen too hard, all right? I might like you, but I don't think I'm willing to share all my deep dark secrets with you just yet._

"Deep dark secrets?" Edward repeated, semi-amused, and Caden shrugged.

"You gonna stand there all day or sit down? It creeps me out when people watch over my shoulder when I eat."

Did that mean he was forgiven as well? Was this how fights were resolved between two men? Two friends? No long, weepy sessions of apologies and begging forgiveness like he'd done with Bella? When Caden raised an eyebrow at Edward and gestured for him to sit down next to him, Edward smiled tentatively and took a seat.

Maybe it really was as simple as that.

* * *

"Tell me about Bella."

Edward closed his eyes. "She's the most amazing woman I've ever met. She's kind, and virtuous, and beautiful. She was my _la tua cantante_. My Singer. Her blood called to me but I resisted, and instead fell in love with her. We are mates. She is the one person in this world whose mind I am incapable of reading. We were destined to meet, and fall in love. Once a vampire mates, it is for life. I love her more than I dare to imagine."

Caden blinked. "…how romantic. How'd you fall in love?"

"Her scent pulled me to her. She intrigued me, because I couldn't hear her thoughts. I wanted to know more about her."

There was a short silence while Caden thought about this. "So you fell in love with her because she smelt tasty and because you didn't know what she was thinking?"

Edward huffed. "It sounds so shallow when you say it that way."

"Sorry," Caden apologised carelessly, not sounding very sorry at all. "That's all I really got from that."

"She's my –"

"Soul mate, I get it. Why, though?"

This time it was Edward who blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Well, what kind of things do you like doing together?"

"I play her songs on the piano. We hunt together, just spend time together."

"…And?"

"And what?"

"Is that it? You play her a song, you eat a deer, you have sex? What do you talk about? What are your favourite movies or board games? What do you fight about? The makeup sex must be awesome if you're gonna spend eternity together."

"Our favourite _book_," Edward emphasised, "is _Wuthering Heights._ And we don't fight. We never fight."

"Never?"

"We've nothing to fight over."

"So you believe in exactly the same things. You always see eye-to-eye."

Recently, not as much, but Edward didn't say that.

"Huh." Caden sat back. "Can't say I've ever heard of that happen before."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, every couple I know fight like a cat and dog tied up in a bag together. I'd have been bored after a week. You have an eternity of…not fighting. Fights make things interesting and exciting. Y'know, imperfections make the perfection. Plus, makeup sex is always the best part of a warring couple."

If he had the ability to, he might have blushed once, but the next words, cheeky and so incredibly _not him_, were out of his mouth before he could stop them. "You know this from experience?"

Caden just smirked.

* * *

He scored a leading role in the musical. One of the two male leads – the coordinators were still deciding which character he'd suit better. Edward arrived home late on Saturday night after another audition, missing the family hunt. He didn't spend much time talking with Carlisle and Alice and Emmett, instead opting to stay with Bella for the night. He found her sitting on her bed, as beautiful as the day he'd met her, and just as small.

"Bella?" he asked softly, approaching her.

"You're late."

"I'm sorry. The auditioning took longer than expected –"

"It's almost as though I don't know you anymore," Bella whispered, looking down at her hands, and Edward felt a pang in his stomach.

_But you never knew me. How could you know me when I didn't even know myself? Oh, Bella…_

"Edward…what's wrong?"

_Midlife crisis, I guess. I am a hundred years old, after all. Had to happen sometime._

"Nothing's wrong, Bella. I'm just…"

How could he explain himself? How could he look at her and say, _I want more?_ Tell her that even though he loved her, she wasn't enough? No, he couldn't tell her – she would never understand, and it would break her heart as surely as the previous time he'd broken her. Sweet, innocent, dependent Bella who sacrificed everything she could have been to be with him. Because he was the only thing she kept going for. The only reason she existed. She'd been that for him.

Until Caden, and his stupid _Star Wars_ movies and _Harry Potter_ books and loud introspective thoughts and the amount of _life_ he was bursting with. And his motorcycle.

Stupid, annoying, distracting, (incredible) Caden.

He sighed, pulled her close, and kissed her forehead. It was more like a father's gesture than a husband's when he did that now. It made him feel ill. "Don't fret, my love. I'm just trying out some new things."

"But _why?_" she whispered, sounding like a child. "I don't understand."

And she never would. He distracted her by kissing her.


	3. part three

___Disclaimer:__ This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Stephenie Meyer. All recognisable characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

**going nowhere, going somewhere**

(part three)

For his birthday, Caden gave him a Weird Al CD and the soundtrack to _A Very Potter Musical_. ("The music's pretty good considering – also funny as hell, once you've read the books and seen the films.") Strangely enough, Edward did enjoy it, and liked it even more after he shot through seven books in two days.

(So, he liked _Harry Potter_. It wasn't a big deal or anything like that. And he most certainly did not, at all, in no way whatsoever, spend an entire day watching the musical on Youtube.)

(Or its sequel.)

He was stumped over what to get Caden in return. He considered buying him some designer clothes, since all Caden seemed to wear were those cheap shirts and jeans one could pick up for a few dollars at the local discount clothes store. He eventually realised it wasn't that he couldn't afford them – Caden just wasn't interested in looking like the Cullens, being content to slap on whatever was comfortable, regardless of price, make, or age.

(He looked good in whatever he wore, anyway.)

Edward also considered writing a song for him, but anything he composed would be classical, and while he knew Caden would appreciate it, it didn't feel right. That particular gift still belonged to Bella.

Listening to Caden's thoughts was unintentional – no matter how hard he tried, it was _hard_ to ignore the obnoxious volume. But it did come in handy, and he didn't think Caden would be upset at him for_this…_ Caden desperately wanted, it seemed, a Luke Skywalker replica lightsaber hilt to go with his Jedi costume, but was despairing because all of the online tutorials to make one used equipment that, while not extremely dangerous, would become a nuclear warhead in his hands.

Since Edward didn't know what else to get him and Caden seemed to really, really want it (and, well he wasn't willing to take the risk of Caden actually attempting to make his own), he hunted down an exact replica of the lightsaber hilt on the internet for a reasonable price.

(Well, reasonable for him, not that Caden needed to know that.)

"Edward Cullen, I could _kiss_ you," Caden declared on his birthday, face flushed in excitement and thoughts scrambled with OMGOMGOMG and _HOLY FUCK _and _I THINK I'M IN LOVE_.

"That's, uh, that's okay. I'm glad you like it," Edward mumbled, embarrassed, but strangely gleeful at hearing that last thought.

* * *

In the lead-up weeks to the musical, Edward bought the sheet music to most of the songs and learned how to play them on the piano so he could practice himself at home.

"_Anyone can be / A husband, lover / Sooner them than me / When they discover / Their domestic bliss is shelter for their failings…_"

(If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend the lyrics didn't mean anything at all to him.)

* * *

"Edward, I've been meaning to tell you something for a few days –"

"I already know."

"Oh. Of course you do. How long?"

"Five days. I was wondering how long it would take you to pluck up the courage to actually tell me that you're leaving."

"Oh."

"Yes."

"…I'm sorry you had to find out like that."

"That's okay."

"I guess you also know what I was going to ask as well?"

"…Caden, I…"

"No, it's cool if you don't want to, I was just asking in case, you know, there was a chance you might –"

"It's not that I don't want to. I do. I'd love to come. It's only… I can't leave Bella or my family. They wouldn't understand."

"No, I – I get it. It's fine. Anyway, I'm not leaving until after the musical, so… plenty of time yet."

* * *

Edward never told him that two months is like a blink of an eye to a vampire.

* * *

"Why do you like me? What is it about me that – that you – want to be my friend?"

Caden rolled his eyes and bounced a tennis ball of the wall of the dorm. The guys next door protested loudly, hammering back. "Oh, great, _now_ he goes insecure. Look, Edward – you're my friend. I didn't think you ever would be at first, because let's face it, you're a bit of a freak."

Edward blinked slowly. "Thank you. I think."

"But who isn't?" Caden continued. "No-one ever accused _me_ of being normal. Remember that first day in the dorm and I found out you'd never heard of the Jonas Brothers? As much as I got pissy at you for turning your nose up at everything modern I love, that's one thing I definitely respected. But… I don't know. We just sort of clicked. And, I like you. You're different. Obviously. You being a vampire and all. That's kinda cool. But that's not why I'm your friend."

When Caden was nervous, he did this rambling thing where he talked in halting sentences, really quickly, and fidgeted a lot. Edward kept eye contact, ignoring Caden's twisting hands. "Then why are you my friend?"

This made Caden throw his head back in exasperation. "Jesus Christ, Edward, I'm your friend because I _want_ to be your friend," he exclaimed. "Does there have to be a reason? And if there does, then all I'm going to give you is, I'm your friend because it's my choice to be your friend. There's nothing stopping me from throwing up my hands at everything about you that pisses me off and leaving to find someone else. Because _despite_ the things about you that piss me off, there's something about you that I – I kinda like. You're interesting. You can be funny, when you want to be. It's been a while since someone's been able to make me laugh – or yell – as much as you do. And you're not perfect. I can't stand perfect people. They annoy me."

"I'm not perfect?" Edward deadpanned, feigning hurt.

"Ha! What kind of perfect person invades other peoples' minds and still be so socially inept? You're a weirdo. And I like that."

* * *

He loved her. He loved her. He loved her.

(Maybe if he repeated it enough, he would feel that way again.)

Bella was beautiful. Soft and feminine and graceful and intelligent. Sweet, and innocent. His soul mate.

And yet.

Something about her, about _them_, paled dramatically in comparison to the dynamic he and Caden shared. Ten years of love and marriage, and it all just seemed to be love confessions whispered to each other every day. No talk about favourite films or books, not anymore. No more wondering what went on in her mind, because _he_ was the only thing on her mind. They didn't even fight.

Ten years of love and marriage, and the most exciting thing about it was Renesmee.

"Bella, why did you fall in love with me?" he asked that night.

"How could I not?" she whispered back. "I fell in love with you the moment I saw you."

Love at first sight. When he set eyes on her, he just wanted to eat her. "But why? What is it about me that you love?"

Her fingers played idly in his hair. "I love the way you kiss me. I love the way you play me songs on the piano. I love everything about you, Edward. I've never met anyone like you before, and I never will again."

"Does anything about me… frustrate you?"

"No, silly. You're perfect in every single way."

"I'm not perfect, Bella," he protested quietly, almost desperately.

"To me you are. Now, hush, Edward. Where is all this coming from? You've been acting so strangely, ever since we've been here." She rested her hand on his face, eyes watching his face in the same worry that graced her expression for the better part of the last year. "I love you. We're meant to be together."

She idolised him. In her eyes, she truly believed he could do no wrong. He wanted to fight with her, just to see what would happen, whether it would make him excited, or furious in return. Anything but this emotionless state. But if he brought up an opinion that she disagreed with, there wouldn't be raised voices and items thrown across the room. There would be a soft discussion, mingled with kisses, and one of them would always concede to the other. No difference of opinion. Just two people, staring at each other.

Somehow, that made him feel worse.

_We're meant to be together._

Not for the first time in a century, Edward wished he could weep.

_Are we, Bella? Do you think you even have a choice in the matter? Don't you want more?_

He loved her, but he didn't want to look _at_ her anymore. He wanted to look forwards, and he wanted her to do the same _with_ him.

He wondered when she stopped being his Florence, and started being his Svetlana instead.

* * *

He noticed something strange when he reached Renesmee's dorm – music pounding loudly, and tens of voices and thoughts assaulting his mind. A party; this clearly meant that Bella was off somewhere else, and most likely wouldn't be back until morning.

"Carlie, who's your friend? He's _gorgeous_," cooed a girl – or was that guy? The haircut made it difficult to discern – from the couch as he entered the dorm room.

He felt cornered and a bit out of place, and couldn't do anything but blink rapidly when Renesmee flounced over to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "Everyone, I want you to meet Edward Cullen. I call him 'daddy'. Who thinks that's hot?"

The girls – and some of the boys – made a high-pitched noise that Edward could only describe as a 'squee'. She waved at them cheerily and turned up the music.

"I'll be back in a moment! Jack, don't eat all of the chips, okay?"

"Aww…"

Renesmee dragged Edward out to the small balcony just as everyone started jumping up and down to the beat of what he supposed _could_ have been classified as music. (If one turned their head to the side and squinted. Maybe.)

"Um, Nessie –"

Renesmee screwed up her nose. "Urgh, please, dad. It's _Carlie_."

"Since when?"

"Since the girls here started calling me the Loch Nessie. But it's cool now. I go by my middle name here. It's so much more normal. Not that there's anything wrong with _not_ being normal, but… you know, 'Renesemee' is a bit _too_ abnormal, even for me. Anyway, what's up?"

Well, that was just it. He didn't know what was up – he just needed an answer to a question he didn't know, and that sounded like a stupid thing to say. Darren Criss's cover of _Teenage Dream_ pounded in the background, and Renesmee was subconsciously tapping her foot in time with the beat. Edward vaguely listened to the scrambled, joyful (and high) thoughts of her friends, and let the music filter through in the back of his mind.

_My heart stops when you look at me_

_Just one touch, now baby I believe_

_This is real, so take a chance and don't ever look back_

_Don't ever look back…_

He smiled at her as one of her friends stuck his head through the doorway.

"Carlie, there you are! You coming back out?"

"I'll be there in a sec, sweetie," she called over her shoulder. "Dad?" she prompted again.

He shook his head. "It's nothing, Nessie. I mean," he corrected, when she scowled, "Carlie. I just wanted to see how my little girl was."

She laughed. "Oh, dad, you're so sweet. Wanna join in?"

"I don't know if I should –"

"Oh, come on! Don't be such a square. It'll be fun!"

In that moment, he found the answer: Renesmee, at least, would be all right, no matter what he did.

He spent the rest of the night dancing with Renesmee and her friends to Lady Gaga and Pink and a band called Black Eyed Peas. Some of the music certainly left much to be desired, but looking around, jumping up and down with human strangers… they were so happy, and just having _fun_, and Renesmee was having fun with them. She'd always known how to have fun. So for one night, Edward forgot about his troubles and joined in.

(He refused to strip when they chanted, though.)

* * *

Over the long weekend, Carlisle seized the chance to isolate Edward. "Walk with me, Edward."

Edward wasn't sure whether he was grateful for Carlisle taking the lead, or embarrassed he didn't have the courage.

"You are troubled, son." Carlisle's timbre was smooth and cultured, soft and comforting. "You know you can tell me anything. I will not judge you." He peered at Edward with gold eyes. "Is there something you wish to ask?"

Edward frowned and looked away as they walked away from the house. Slow, human pace. "Do you ever fight with Esme?" he asked.

"All the time," Carlisle laughed, shocking Edward into a grinding halt.

"When?"

Carlisle raised an eyebrow. "Not where any of you can see us."

"What do you fight about?"

The doctor waved his hand almost carelessly. "Oh, everything. From Shakespeare to Coleridge to the best song of the twentieth century to downright mundane things like why there always seems to be one orphan sock after every wash, and the other one can't be found and whether it's my fault or hers."

Domestic issues. Edward always used to find that so trivial, a symptom of a life not being lived. How wrong he'd been – all those trivialities, it _was_ life, even for the undead. A sign of passion, of activeness, of a working, normal relationship. One that was actually _going _somewhere. One that wasn't existing at a total standstill. Hundreds of small imperfections that created a true perfection of life and meaning. "I don't fight with Bella. Ever," he admitted softly, and Carlisle frowned.

"Well… you don't _have_ to fight," he said slowly. "Esme and I clash over opinions, but the tiffs never last too long. Although there was one particularly awful fight in 1964 when we didn't speak to each other for the year. How you never noticed that remains a mystery to me."

"You didn't speak to each other the entire year?"

"Point," Carlisle muttered. Edward shook his head and made a conscious effort to return to the subject.

"How do you make up after a fight?"

"I'm afraid that is intruding into territory I'd prefer to keep to myself."

It took him a few seconds but he finally got the idea, and imagined if he still had a heartbeat he'd flush red. _Oh. Right_. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning against a nearby tree. "I… I don't know what to do, Carlisle."

Carlisle's troubled look gave way to sympathy. "As cliché as it sounds… you must follow your heart's desire, if you are to be happy."

Of course. Heart's desire. Suddenly he found himself wishing he had a Mirror of Erised. What a convenient plot device that would be. "And if… this life, if Bella, doesn't fit into what my heart's desire is now? How is that right? Why should I be so selfish – again? I know what I put you all through when Bella was human, and her."

"You've spent your entire life looking out for others. We are strong, Edward. It's time you started doing what you truly want, not what you think others want. Bella…whatever you are planning, and if you follow it through, it will hurt her deeply. And that's part of the choice you have to make, and part of the consequences that will come with that choice. I can't tell you what to decide, son. It's up to you now."

Edward rubbed the back of his neck. "I've been so confused lately. And yet, in other ways… I've never been happier, or understood myself more."

Carlisle moved his head to one side, observing Edward. "Caden is good for you, I think. He can show you things that the rest of us are incapable of." Edward blanched, and Carlisle smiled. "Edward. I'm happy for you."

"Am I that transparent?"

"All the time, my son."

Edward sighed frustratedly. "Isn't Bella supposed to be my mate? Aren't I supposed to want to be with her – aren't vampires supposed to only have one mate for eternity?"

Carlisle rested a hand on his shoulder, stilling his movements. "Just because someone is your mate doesn't mean it stops you from loving others. You do love Bella. If you didn't, you wouldn't care so much about her. But emotion is a peculiar thing – it can strike us when we least expect it to." He smiled sadly at Edward. "If your conscience won't allow you to do what you want, do what you feel is right, but always remember that your own happiness is important as well. And no matter what, you will always be my son."

* * *

"Don't tell me you're nervous."

Edward adjusted his shirt again. "Of course I'm not," he lied. "What a ridiculous thing to suggest."

Caden, of course, saw right through it. "You're nervous." When Edward didn't reply, he smiled and shook his head. "You shouldn't be, you know."

"Why?"

"Well, you act all the time, in front of thousands of people. You've been acting for nearly a century. Why get nervous now?"

"Because –"

_Because for the first time in my life, I don't think I'm acting at all._

To say that the part of the Russian man in _Chess_ lately had been hitting a little too close for home for comfort was a grotesque understatement. Caden waited patiently for an answer, to which Edward just shrugged as if to say, _I don't know_. Let him assume it was simply normal pre-performance jitters.

_Would you like a kiss for good luck?_ Caden thought cheekily, eyes amused.

Edward spluttered and imagined if he still had a blood flow, his face would be rapidly turning red. Muttering something about "have a wife" and "wouldn't be appropriate" and "but thanks for offering", he tried to made a quick dash for backstage but his feet were rooted to ground, also remembering _Caden's leaving tomorrow_ and _might never see him again_.

He imagined it would be brief and painfully awkward but just so _right_, and almost leaned forwards but the director started calling for him and other people were now walking around them, and the moment passed. Caden clapped him on the shoulder instead and wished him luck with a wistful smile.

"Break a leg," he advised seriously, and left the backstage area to find his seat in the crowd.

Edward ran a hand through his hair and pretended to listen to what the director was saying.

_I don't think I'm acting anymore._

* * *

"_They all think they see a man who doesn't know_

_Which move to make, which way to turn_

_Whose private life caused his decline_

_Wrecked his grand design…"_

It was Bella, not Svetlana, he raged at during _Endgame_. The young woman who played Svetlana looked eerily like her – brown hair, pale skin, oval face. Very pretty. From a distance, she could have been mistaken for his wife.

It made it easy to pretend that Bella was screaming back at him, the way he wanted her to.

"_As you watch yourself caring_

_About a minor sporting triumph, sharing_

_Your win with esoterics, paranoids, hysterics,_

_Who don't pay attention to_

_What goes on around them_

_They leave the ones they love the way they found them_

_A normal person must dismiss you in disgust_

_And weep for those who trusted you!"_

* * *

"Oh, Edward, that was wonderful!" Esme congratulated.

"I knew you'd be great," Alice chirped, winking. "And Emmett owes me fifty dollars now!"

"For what?"

"He bet that you'd stuff up your lines. Against me."

Edward glared half-heartedly at Emmett. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Emmett."

"Pleasure," Emmett smirked.

Renesmee launched herself into his arms. _Dad dad dad that was so incredibly awesome you rocked up there –_

Edward laughed and patted her on the back. "Thank you, sweetie."

Bella was the last to approach him, eyes downcast. "That was… incredible, Edward," she said softly. She said nothing else, always holding in her feelings, but he could read her face like an open book.

Fear.

_They leave the ones they love the way they found them  
__A normal person must dismiss you with disgust  
__And weep for those who trusted you…_

He cringed. He could hear Caden in the background, which meant he was close, maybe even watching, but it was with a torn heart he pulled Bella close to him and kissed her, and thanked her for coming to see his performance. She shivered and wrapped her arms around him, begging for comfort – begging for him not to leave her like the Russian left Svetlana.

Caden's thoughts quietened as he left. Edward held Bella more tightly to stop himself from running after him.

* * *

This is how he wants it to go:

"You're here," Caden will say in surprise, looking up with a mixture of relief and joy. If his heart still pumped, he imagines it would be hammering wildly – so loudly that the bustling airport would be able to hear it.

"Yeah. I am," he will reply a little nervously, and hold up his passport. "I didn't have time to pack, but I thought I'd buy everything there anyway. The store – Target, you said?"

Caden might grin at him. "Kmart's even cheaper. I suppose if you start to miss all your designer clothes you can go to David Jones or Myer…"

An awkward pause, like so many they share.

"I'm glad you decided to come," Caden would probably say softly, eyes averted in embarrassment and his mind pounding some song he'll have heard from the radio minutes before so Edward can't hear his thoughts clearly.

"Are we doing this the human way?" Edward will ask, hiding a slight teasing tone. Caden will frown, obviously confused, or at the very least deliberately misunderstanding.

"'Course. What other way is there?"

"My way."

Here, Caden might laugh. "Your way involves swimming across the Pacific ocean. Forget it, buddy."

"What's the matter?" Edward will ask softly, walking close enough to feel the warmth radiating off Caden's skin. "Don't you trust me?"

Caden will peer up at him through his smoky eyelashes. "I do trust you. I just don't fancy pulling my luggage through an ocean."

"We could put the luggage on the plane."

"And go swimming?"

"Sure. Why not?"

This time he'll roll his eyes. "I'm human. I somehow suspect my body won't be able to handle it."

"I won't let anything happen to you. I promise. We can stop at Fiji on the way."

He'll blink slowly, conveying amused dismay. "Stop at Fiji on the way, he says." Maybe he'll nod seriously. "Of course." Then Edward imagines Caden will grin again and shrug, as if to say, _oh, what the hell_. "Oh, what the hell. You only live once, right?" At Edward's raised eyebrow, he'll quickly add, "Or, well, forever in your case. You know what I mean."

Edward will smile in return, and say, "Hold on tight."

"Jesus," Caden will exclaim before they hit the water, "I'm going to fucking _swim_ to Australia!"

And Edward will laugh.

* * *

This is how it actually goes:

"You're here," Caden says in surprise, looking up with a mixture of relief and sadness. If his heart still pumped, Edward imagines it'd be hammering wildly – so loudly that the bustling airport would be able to hear it.

"Yeah. I am," he replies. "I didn't want you to go without saying goodbye."

Caden sighs. "Well, I'm glad."

An awkward pause, like so many they share. "Caden…"

Caden shakes his head. "It's all right, Edward. I wouldn't ask you to choose between your family and me. That's not exactly fair, is it?"

Edward looks away. "I _want_ to come. But I have a responsibility to them. Especially to Bella."

"She loves you."

"She doesn't know anything else."

"Some people might find that flattering."

"I do. I _did_. I just want her to have something else in her life in case…" In case he ever does leave. He helped make her the way she is; how can he in good conscience leave her without anything else?

_They leave the ones they love the way they found them…_

Caden rubs the back of his neck. "Look, I'm not good at saying goodbye. I'll write to you, okay? Paper and pen, I promise. You old coot."

Edward laughs. "You, paper and pen? I'm surprised you even know what that is! You kids these days…"

Caden mock-scowls. "O ye of little faith. I have your home address. If you change it soon, you'll tell me?"

"Of course I will."

There's another long silence, mercifully and cruelly shattered by the intercom calling for all passengers to board. Caden grips his carry-on tightly. "Well, that's my flight," he mutters. "I'll – um…"

His thoughts broadcast that he desperately wants to say _I'll see you later_, but somehow both of them know that they probably won't. Not for a very, very long time. Quite possibly never. "I'll keep in contact," Edward promises softly instead, saving Caden from lying.

Caden nods his head. "Bye, Edward."

"Bye, Caden," he replies.

He stays in the airport to watch Caden's plane take off.

(When he can't hear Caden's thoughts anymore, he wishes he were still human so he could cry the tears he longs to.)

* * *

That night, back home for the weekend, he sits next to Bella. Their hands are a hair's width apart, but neither make the final move. Sweet, naïve Bella. Has he done this to her? Made her the way she is? He doesn't know.

"Bella, would you like to audition with me for the new musical next month?"

She doesn't, but she suggests with an offering, almost hopeful, tone that Rosalie might like to, since she has an undeniable flair for the dramatic, and that she'd love to come and see him again.

Edward smiles at her and takes her hand. She squeezes back.

Life, as they say, goes on.

– The End –

* * *

Stay tuned for the sequel, a tale told by an idiot, coming at a (much) later date. Thank you to everyone who took the time to review – I apologise if I haven't responded to your comments but please know that I appreciate each and every single one of them! And finally, to thank you, my readers, here is a sneak peek of the sequel:

"_You're a vampire, Edward, all your loved ones are as well. You don't have to watch on helplessly as your father reaches the point when he no longer recognises his own son."_

"_You're human," Edward countered. "You don't have to watch as your loved ones grow old and die around you, cursed with the knowledge that you'll never be able to join them one day."_

"_You completely missed my point," Caden said irritably, carelessly tossing his student's homework into his suitcase. The matured features and the light specks of grey hair struck Edward as wrong. Sad. Unfair. "You don't have to worry about that. Everyone you care about stays young with you."_

_Edward didn't answer straight away, and when he did his tone was muted. "Not _everyone_ I care about."_


End file.
